


Sweet Nothings

by electric_eel



Category: The West Wing
Genre: F/M, International Fanworks Day 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 11:02:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13680381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/electric_eel/pseuds/electric_eel
Summary: Valentine's Day for Josh and Donna. 10 years apart.





	1. Valentine's Day: Bartlet Administration

Josh is loitering by my desk as I type, obviously bored with the CBO report he was reading earlier. He fidgets with a few things on my desk, moving them slightly, picking them up, and then sitting them back down several times. He's a flurry of unfocused energy all around me. After casually flipping through a few folders he sticks his hand into my candy dish and leans against the frame of my cubicle with his snack. 

"It's empty in here tonight, he notes in passing as he checks his watch, somewhat perplexed. 

Well duh, I think to myself. 

I continue to type, not even phased. His constant movement and restless energy have become my new normal. Nothing to see here, folks. 

He pops a candy into his mouth and then makes a face, examining the contents of his hand. "Why are these M&M's stupid colors?"

I stop typing and look at him arching a brow. Is he... serious?

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah. They're all... girly." He tosses another into his mouth. "They're different colors of pink."

"Joshua," I feign exasperation. "It's Valentine's Day."

He makes a face like a deer caught in the headlights and gulps, swallowing the chocolates as if they'd suddenly morphed into bitter pills. "...right now?"

That causes me to giggle. With any other man in the world I'd call that a cop out- but with Josh, he really had no idea. "Yes, Josh. Today."

"Oh." He looks around a bit, suddenly weary as he takes in the cards and decorations around the bullpen, before he spots the bouquet on my desk. "And, uh, those are for... you know... the holiday?"

"They are." I play it cool, acting aloof about the whole thing as I stand up and saunter over to the file cabinet. Okay, so they're from my dad. But what he doesn't know won't hurt him. 

He's hot on my heels as I make my way around the bullpen, his casual nonchalance turning quickly to a nervous line of questioning. 

"Do you have plans tonight?"  
"How long have you known this guy?"  
"Where'd you meet Mr. Floral Delivery?"  
"Lilies? Really, Donna? He can't even send you roses on Valentine's Day?"

I turn and look at him, shooting him a mock glare. 

"I'm just saying that red roses are the international symbol for love," he tells me, swiping the card from the arrangement. "You deserve roses, Donnatella. Red roses." That's a compliment though, in Josh's language, and for a fleeting moment I enjoy it as such. "Now lets see what your latest gomer has to say for himself." 

Yeah. The sweet moment is over. 

"Happy Valentine's Day," he reads out loud with unnecessary flourish, ready to mock the card no matter what it says. His voice falters, though, when he reads the signature. "Love... Dad?" 

I look him straight in the eye with a satisfied smile on my face. 

"Donna, these are from your father."

"How very perceptive of you." I roll my eyes. 

"So, since you don't have plans...." he trails off, shoving his hands into his pocket and staring at in imaginary scuff on the hardwood floor. 

"Since I don't have plans, what?" I'm not letting him off the hook. 

"We can work at my place the rest of the night."

Oh. 

"Andmaybegetdinnerorsomethingonthewaythere." It comes out as one long, mumbled question. 

The smile is back on my face. 

"Kay."

He looks up quickly, as though he's surprised by my response. I get a full dimpled grin. "Kay," he tells me, swaggering back into his office to get his things. 

\--

Josh drives us through the streets of Georgetown towards his townhouse as we chat easily about an array of topics. He pulls into a spot at the end of his block and we get out of his car, strolling towards the Chinese restaurant where we'd ordered carry out. 

We wander in and Josh picks up the box containing our to go orders, his card already on file with the Szechwan Palace. 

"Signature, please," the cashier calls. 

Josh nods towards the receipt with his hands full. "Sign it, would you?"

I grab the pen and instinctively scroll out Donnatella, stopping myself when I realize it's Josh's card. They'll need his name on the authorization. Before I can think about what I'm doing in switch gears and add Lyman to the end. 

I toss the pen down and freeze, realizing what I've just done. I blink a few times before venturing a glance at Josh. 

He gives me a what looks proud smirk. I was really anticipating unbridled fear in his eyes. Red-blooded American male fear of commitment. But there isn't even a trace of that on his face. "Been practicing that," he quips. 

"Yes, Joshua. When I leave the office at 2am I go home and right Donnatella Lyman all over my Trapper Keeper." I don't miss a beat. 

"So what you're saying is that you're thinking of me at night..." He's being adorably smug right now. 

I roll my eyes and we head back to his apartment. Oddly enough this is shaping up to be my idea of a perfect night. Chinese food and Josh. 

It may not be a conventional Valentine's Day, but if I could live the rest of my life like this, near this man, I'd be a very happy girl.


	2. Valentine's Day: Santos Administration

I wake to Josh's palm slapping the button on the alarm. I glance over and read 3:30 in the red numbers on the clock. He couldn't have crawled into bed more than two hours ago. I snuggle closer into him, knowing our time together is so very limited and wishing we could stay this way for hours. 

I feel his lips kiss my forehead and his weight shift on the bed as he gets up, shuffling to the bathroom and turning on the shower. 

He's barely been home this week- holed up in the sit room with President Santos and Sam- and now he's headed out on a 4 day trip. The motorcade leaves the White House at 5am sharp. 

I haven't slept much more than he has, in all honesty. Two of our three kids are sick and I spent the better part of last night helping our oldest decorate the perfect box for her class' Valentine's Day party. I'm beat. 

Josh and I don't really celebrate Valentine's Day. We've just never gotten into it. He shows me how much he loves me the other 364 days a year too, and I wouldn't trade that for all of the heart shaped chocolates in the world. 

I do, however, channel all of my strength and get out of bed, zombie walking to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee for him. I pull out a card I'd purchased for him and lean it against the pot. It's not much- just a simple reminder of my love for him. He will probably read it on the plane. 

I've missed him desperately over the last few days and I'm already looking forward to his return from this trip with the President. Wandering back towards our bedroom I'm distracted by the beginnings of cries coming from the nursery. I peek my head inside to try and prevent a 5 alarm meltdown from our youngest. She's been known to wake the whole house. She certainly has Josh's lungs. 

I pick her up and begin to sway slowly, hoping the motion puts her back to sleep. She continues to fuss so I pace a bit, attempting to head this off before I'm up all night. 

Eventually I walk past the open door to the kids' bathroom and catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Yikes. Josh's old baggy Mets sweatshirt and a pair of his boxers, a messy pony tail and dark circles under my eyes that I'm beginning to think are permanent after this many years of no sleep. Top it off with my runny red nose and you've got a real treat. 

Josh rounds the corner just then, looking ready to staff the President. He's always been handsome, but I swear he gets better with age. I'm suddenly self conscious about my appearance, though I know it doesn't matter to him. I wonder if he ever thought we'd be here. Careers, family, crazy schedules and long days apart. It's less than glamorous. 

He walks over to us, smoothing the baby's wild curls out of her face before tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear. He's an amazing father. My heart melts with every tender interaction, no matter how mundane. 

"I really don't want to go," he tells me, and I can see in his eyes that he means it. "I don't want to leave you."

I sigh, wishing it was that simple. "I know you don't," I tell him. "But you'll be home soon. 

He snakes his arms around me and I'm tempted to beg him to stay. But I can't. That's not how this works. We promised Matt and Helen we'd stay on until the end, and we're keeping our word. "This time next year we'll be jobless and home all day. You're going to be sick of me," I try for banter to lighten the mood. 

"Never," he assures me with a smile, kissing my stuffy nose. 

"I'll see you in 4 days, beautiful," he kisses me gently on the lips, before kissing the top of the baby's head, and then moving back to me. "Call me if you need anything. Or even if you don't," he tells me, his hand lingering a bit on the small of my back. 

I nod that I will. 

He walks out and I can vaguely hear him pour a quick mug of coffee and shove his card into his back, speaking quietly to his detail as the front door closes. 

I finally get the baby back to sleep and wander into our bedroom. I see Josh has left the light on in the en suite and I peek in to switch it off. And that's when I see it. 

There, on the vanity, between the double sinks, amounts the boxes of Kleenex and children's cold medications stand two dozen long stem red roses. I gasp a little bit, wondering how he managed to surprise me. They're beautiful. I'm teary eyed before I even pull the tiny card from the envelope

Donnatella-

It gets better every year.

I love you.

Josh


End file.
